


The Things We Never Mentioned

by AdrianaintheSnow



Series: Labeled [8]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Anesthesia, It could have been a coffee shop au, M/M, Medical Procedures, Mutual Pining, Surgery, but they're both painfully aware, i'd say they're both oblivious gays, superhero au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-17
Updated: 2020-03-10
Packaged: 2021-02-19 04:54:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22772233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AdrianaintheSnow/pseuds/AdrianaintheSnow
Summary: “Believe it or not, academia and relationships are not mutually exclusive.” That was likely true, Logan knew. It was also not the problem.The problem was his ability to move things with his mind, a blue suit he kept in his bag, and the mountains of red files he kept hidden in his apartment. No one knew that Logan was Bluebird, the cities resident superhero. He hadn’t even told his parents and he wasn’t planning on doing so. Sharing such a secret with anyone was a danger to everyone involved. He refused to do so.At the same time, he knew that starting a romantic relationship with anyone who didn’t know the truth, was unfair to that person. Inevitably they would find out and there would be a disastrous fallout, but beyond that, starting a relationship on a foundation of lies was a horribly cruel thing to do to another person.These two conflicting rules Logan followed had never posed an issue for him before recently, but…But he did like Patton.
Relationships: Logic | Logan Sanders/Morality | Patton Sanders
Series: Labeled [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1616662
Comments: 150
Kudos: 432





	1. Chapter 1

“Why are you being all weird?” Lia asked.

Logan paused in his grading and frowned at her from across the table. They were seated in “The Hideout” at one of the tables with 200 exams between them. “What do you mean?”

“You’re acting all cagey. You keep looking around and you’re rubbing at the sleeve of your sweater like you do when professors are handing back assignments you struggled with.” Logan stopped the indicated action and placed his hands resolutely on the tabletop.

“I’m fine.”

“Too many people?” she asked. “We can go to my apartment if you want. Greg won’t mind.”

“No!” he said, perhaps a bit too enthusiastically judging by the odd look she gave him. “I quite enjoy this coffee shop.”

“…What’s your deal today Logan?”

“I am simply stressed at the number of final exams we have to grade by tomorrow.”

“I don’t know if I believe you.”

“That is not my problem,” he replied and took a sip of his coffee before going back to his grading. He still couldn’t stop his eyes from going to the door every so often.

It was about 15 minutes later when the bell over the door chimed and Logan’s hand went still when his eyes found “The Hideouts” newest patron. They met eyes briefly and Patton immediately corrected his course toward the table.

“Hi Logan,” he said with a smile, stopping about a foot away from where Logan sat.

“Hello Patton,” he replied. “How are you today?”

“Oh, I’m good.” They made eye contact for a couple of moments longer before he seemed to register Lia’s presence. “Oh, um. Sorry if I’m intruding.”

“You’re not,” Lia said before Logan could say anything. “Hi, I’m Lia,” she said offering her hand. “And you’re Patton if I heard right.”

He shook her hand with a smile. “I am. It’s nice to meet you.”

“It’s nice to meet you too. How do you and Logan know each other?”

“We’re just both regulars here and I almost poured a cup of coffee on him about a month and a half ago.”

“Wow,” she responded and then turned her eyes on Logan with some sort of untrustworthy twinkle in them. “Wow,” she repeated.

“Lia and I,” Logan said turning to Patton, “were teaching assistants for the same course this semester and are now grading the student’s finals.”

“I see. Well, you’re obviously busy so I’ll just let you…”

“Oh, you like _Mind of Mystery_?” Lia suddenly interjected.

Patton looked at her in surprise and then seemed to remember something, looking down at one of the pens on his bag. “Oh!” he said. “Yeah, I do.”

“You know, I love that show. Logan have you ever watched that show.”

“Uh… no.”

“Well that sucks. Now I kinda want to talk about it. Hey, grading doesn’t really take much brain power. Why don’t you grab a coffee and come sit with us? We can talk about the show. It will keep my mind off this mountain.” She waved to the stack in front of her.

“Oh, I,” he said, biting his lower lip. “I wouldn’t want to intrude.”

“It’s fine,” Logan said instantly.

Patton looked at him and smiled widely before looking away. “Okay then,” he replied. “I’ll go get some coffee.”

He watched the other man walk to the counter and then turned back to Lia. “What?” he asked at the strange look on her face.

“Oh my god,” she said and reached over to give him a punch on the shoulder. “You didn’t tell me you had a cute coffee shop boy.”

“I don’t have him Lia.”

“Have you asked him?” Logan felt the tips of his ears heat. “And don’t think I didn’t notice that you didn’t argue that he’s cute.”

“Well that is an objective fact.”

“Oh, is it now?” she asked. “Is that what Logan’s calling objective now?”

“He is clearly aesthetically pleasing. I am simply stating fact.”

“So, there’s no bias there?”

“Not at all, you noticed yourself did you not?” She rolled her eyes.

“Logan,” she said. “My dear friend, co-teacher, and office mate, if you don’t ask out the cute coffee shop boy who is clearly into you, I will slightly move every single one of your pens in the office.”

“And then I will throw your desk out of the window.”

“Come on, Logan,” she groaned. “He’s as cute as a button and is making heart eyes at you from the counter.”

Logan craned his neck backwards and Patton was indeed looking at him. He looked away when he met Logan’s eyes. Logan turned back to Lia, his blush now fully formed.

“Please,” she whisper-chanted. “Please, please, please, please, please.”

“Why are you so interested in my dating prospects?” he hissed back.

“Because you’re my friend, you were clearly hoping he’d show up, and you lit up like a Christmas tree when he came in. You have to ask him out.”

“I’m not interested in dating at this point in my life,” Logan said. “I’m quite busy with my studies and teaching. There is no room for such frivolities.”

“Logan I’m getting married this summer.”

“Yes, and that is you. Not me.”

“Believe it or not, academia and relationships are not mutually exclusive.” That was likely true, Logan knew. It was also not the problem.

The problem was his ability to move things with his mind, a blue suit he kept in his bag, and the mountains of red files he kept hidden in his apartment. No one knew that Logan was Bluebird, the cities resident superhero. He hadn’t even told his parents and he wasn’t planning on doing so. Sharing such a secret with anyone was a danger to everyone involved. He refused to do so.

At the same time, he knew that starting a romantic relationship with anyone who didn’t know the truth, was unfair to that person. Inevitably they would find out and there would be a disastrous fallout, but beyond that, starting a relationship on a foundation of lies was a horribly cruel thing to do to another person.

These two conflicting rules Logan followed had never posed an issue for him before recently, but…

But he did like Patton.

“It isn’t an option for me at this point in my life,” Logan said.

Lia looked like she wanted to respond, but then shut her mouth and smiled over his shoulder. Patton appeared back at the table a moment later. He grabbed a chair from a nearby table to sit.

“How did the end of the semester go for you?” Patton asked.

“For the classes I took, it went well,” Logan answered. “As for the one I taught, it is not quite as over as I would like.” He gestured toward the exams stacked on the table.

“That looks like a lot.”

“Ugh,” Lia said. “It is and I’m suffering.”

Patton’s nose scrunched up a bit as he smiled. “Did you enjoy what you taught this semester at least? Calc II right?”

Lia shot Logan a look as though it were not normal behavior for someone to discuss the course they were teaching with an acquaintance or for said acquaintance to retain that information. “Yep,” she replied. “It was pretty fun. The students can be silly, but I like teaching.”

“I’m sure Dr. Stewart thought the same thing about you when you couldn’t remember the definition of a Lie group on your final.”

She stuck out her tongue in response. “Anyway,” she said. “It was a fun course to teach. It’s where you start getting mostly math majors or majors that need a lot of math and not people taking requirements. Plus, I got to work with Logan this semester so that was nice.” Logan rolled his eyes at her and hid his warming cheeks by taking a drink of coffee. “He’s great to work with, you know. The students all like him because he’s good at being patient and _very_ thorough.” Okay, another drink of coffee. “I like working with him because he doesn’t hit on me since he’s very gay.” Logan chocked on his coffee.

“I’m,” he stopped to cough. “Unsure what my sexuality has to do with anything.”

“I’m just making conversation,” Lia replied innocently.

Patton chuckled softly and bit his lip with his own light blush on his cheeks. Oh god. He knew. If Logan had less self-restraint, he would have just thrown himself out the window and flown into the sun. Patton cleared his throat after a moment. “Didn’t you want to talk about _Mind of Mystery,_ Lia?” he ask.

She frowned. Clearly, she did not want to talk about a television show. Yet, she was thankfully forced by social convention to discuss it with him. Logan did not have much to contribute about a television show he had never watched, but despite that, found himself unable to effectively grade. He held the red pen in his hand and hovered it over one of his students’ exams, but all of his attention was on their conversation. Patton was soft spoken usually, but his voice was always clear. That is unless he was tired. Logan secretly loved the days he came in a little sleepy even though it must be bad for the man’s health, especially as it was often during the mid-morning. His speech got a little slower and his voice went deeper. He also lost some of his sense of boundaries and got a bit touchier when tired. With most people, this would make Logan cringe, but with Patton it made his chest warm.

The conversation slowly came back around to talk about the exams Logan and Lia were grading which Logan was more prepared to be a participate in.

“Hey, what’s the answer supposed to be for 26?” Lia asked. “My answer’s not lining up with Dr. Bakers.”

“Which test form?” he asked.

“B,” she replied. “It’s this one.” She leaned over to point to a question on the blank exam she’d been using to scribble on. Patton leaned over to glance at it too as Logan wrote it down on some scratch paper to work it out. Ugh. Integration by parts. He was too brain numb for this right now.

“1/2- ln(2)/2,” Patton said after a few moments. Logan looked over at the napkin in front of him where he’d written out the steps in precise script.

Now, Logan tried very hard to not be an academic elitist. He’d honestly been absolutely obnoxious in his high school years but had taken a step back and reevaluated his attitude later in life, helped by being humbled by a few of his first-year graduate classes. He had not cared about Patton’s ability to solve calculus problems. It was not at all why the man captivated his attention in the past month. In fact, he’d been running under the notion that the man was not particularly book smart and he had been perfectly content to strike up an acquaintanceship with him despite that.

So why did he suddenly want to capitulate to what Lia had been needling him about this entire afternoon just because the man could calculate a definite integral.

Perhaps it had little to do with the equation at all.

“Pretty and smart,” Lia commented. Logan kicked her under the table and for good measure made the plastic coffee cup that was teetering on the edge tip all the way over. Lia made a noise of frustration and got up to get some napkins to clean up the mess.

“Please ignore everything she says,” he said to Patton.

“I think it’s sweet,” Patton said. “She seems like a good friend.”

“I would barely call her a friend,” Logan murmured, “She won’t even be an office mate once I manage to get her desk to the roof of the math building.”

Patton laughed, but they were interrupted by something beeping at his waist. He glanced down at what seemed to be a pager. “Oh!” he said. “I’ve got to go, sorry.”

“Of course,” Logan said, blinking at the pager. “I hope it isn’t an emergency.”

“Oh, it’s always an emergency,” Patton mumbled. “Bye Lia,” he said when she returned back to the table. “I’ve got to go, but it was nice meeting you.” He turned to Logan. “I’ll, um, see you later. Probably not today, but later.”

Logan nodded. “Have a good rest of your day,” he said and got a small smile in return.

“Bye Patton, nice to meet you!” Lia called after him, and then he was out the door.

They decided to finish grading for the day about 20 minutes later.

“Well,” Lia said chipperly when they exited the coffee shop. “That was a productive coffee shop grading party.”

Logan rolled his eyes. “Sure.”

“But… we still have over 150 exams to have graded by Monday.”

“Right,” Logan said. “Somebody kill me.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm impressed that all of you managed to ignore the tags and the ominous last line of the last chapter to just enjoy the fun coffee shop AU.
> 
> I expected at least one person to call me out on it.
> 
> Also, fair warning, I found while writing this that I actually have no idea how emergency surgery works and so had to boldly guess.

It was calm night at work. Which, Remy thought with a wince, was probably not a good thing to think when one worked in an ER. He’d definitely just jinxed it. If some vengeful god decided to crash a bus of innocent people because Remy dared to have the thought that it was a slow night, then that god was an asshole and Remy refused to feel guilty about it.

Remy had only been working in this ER for a few months, but he’d already gotten a feel for how things worked on most nights. It was only about 9pm, but Remy knew he had a long night ahead of him and there was a nice break in his duties, so he was gallivanting off to the break room to snag himself a cup of coffee (the break room coffee was horrible, but it was a necessity) when the city alarms went off.

Most places had televisions set up so people could see the drama unfolding when supervillains attacked the city, but the Emergency Room had one in just about every room that staff frequented which were linked with the alarms so they turned on automatically when the alarm sounded. The staff had to be prepared for the possible influx of patients after all. So, Remy got a first-row seat to the newest super powered fist fight.

The scene on the screen was a fight between two very well-known supers. The villain, Telemonger had been around for almost a decade at this point. She had telekinesis and had a tendency to show up to cities and rain down destruction. She was an A level B in Remy’s book.

The hero, Bluebird, had the same powers but was much newer. He’d only been on the scene for a little over two years, but he was pretty good and had a good standing in the city he protected. People loved him. Beyond the fact that statistically the body counts when he was the one fighting were the lowest in the country, he also just seemed like an okay dude to most people, Remy included. Superheroes weren’t always as heroic as people would wish and sometimes it seemed like they were more going out for notoriety than a desire to help people. Bluebird, on the other hand, didn’t seem to give a flying fuck about statues, keys to the city, hero turf wars, or publicity stunts. Remy could respect that.

So, someone might forgive the nurse if he felt a little nervous about the fight where for most matchups, he’d just be eating popcorn and hoping civilians didn’t die.

They were on the outskirts of the city near the six-lane highway coming into town, both hovering only slightly off the ground and facing each other. The cause of the conflict was clear. There was a passenger train hovering over Telemonger’s head. There wasn’t a train track anywhere near that location, so Remy imagined the people on that train were having quite the fucking day. Bluebird was clearly saying something to her, but this part of town wasn’t set up for this sort of drama and news casters were desperately trying to get the cameras and the long distant microphones working so Remy couldn’t understand what he was saying.

He did, however, very easily understand the response.

She tossed the train right toward the highway. It slowed in midair and stopped only a few feet from crashing on top of the turbine interchange. Remy winced in sympathy. He had never used telekinetic powers himself, but he knew enough theory. Bluebird was strong and had clear potential to get stronger, but he was relatively unpracticed and that had to be quite the strain. While he was distracted, Telemonger sent a piece of concrete directly at his unprotected stomach. He was bowled over by it. Remy could see the train shudder in the air, but somehow it remained there instead of crushing the cars beneath it. Telemonger waved her arm at his face and there was nothing the eye could see, but by the way Bluebird went careening backwards onto the ground, Remy could guess the strength of the hit. The train still didn’t fall though, and she landed to stalk forward toward him with focused intensity.

Oh, Remy realized with sudden clarity. She was here for Bluebird, wasn’t she? This was targeted. As Remy said, he had clear potential and a hero’s will. She was here to nip that in the bud. She didn’t give two shits about the civilians. They were tools for her to get to Bluebird because she knew they weren’t tools to him.

Bluebird suddenly shot straight up in the air flying fast enough that the cameras set to focus on him couldn’t track him. The train was jerked up suddenly and moved a good distance away from the highway over a field before being let down gently.

Telemonger chased after him, tossing ripped up concrete and other objects at him while he did his best to dodge. One he managed to catch as it zoomed by him and redirect in a circle to whip back at her. She just barely dodged. She appeared to grow frustrated with that and spread out her arms before clapping her hands hard in a move Remy recognized from news casts. A wave of force slammed into Bluebird, but Bluebird did something Remy and surely Telemonger had not been expecting. Instead of getting distracted cushioning his own fall, his own hand lashed out and, distracted, she went flying. Telemonger’s head slammed against one of the interstate ramps and she fell. She did not get up.

It had been a decision, clear as day. Remy could see it. She could have easily won that fight and when she did, she would have hurt people. Bluebird had seen an opportunity to take her out. He took it.

Bluebird hit the ground, probably not with as much impact as a person without powers would have, but with more force than someone who could fly should have. He also didn’t move after he hit.

It felt like the whole hospital, no, the whole city, went silent for a long moment.

Then, pandemonium.

People started rushing every which way, preparing for the inevitable conclusion of what was still happening on screen as first responders scrambled onto the scene. Remy hadn’t been here long enough to know what to do in this sort of situation and ended up just allowing himself to be pushed out of the way as things were prepped. Somehow all of that pushing managed to get him right smack dab in the middle of everything.

“You!” one of the higher ups said pointing to him. “In trauma room 2. They need a nurse. Now.” And Remy was definitely not going to argue right now. He scrambled to obey.

When he’d gotten in the correct outerwear and washed his hands, he entered the room. There were a couple of people already in the room that Remy vaguely recognized. There was an anesthesiologist and a surgical tech prepping the room as well as a surgeon. He’d met the surgeon once when he’d given Remy a cookie a couple months before. By reputation, Remy knew that, despite being pretty young, barely older than Remy himself, he was probably one of the best surgeons in the emergency room that night.

“Good,” Dr. Sanders said when he saw Remy come in. He did not look like the friendly, bubbly man who had offered Remy food and a smile. He looked serious, calm, and ready for whatever life could throw at him. “If he’s conscious at all when he gets here, get any information you can,” he told Remy and oh, oh shit. Was this what Remy thought this was?

Well, he couldn’t chicken out now.

He nodded at the doctor and the doctor nodded back before turning to the surgical tech and continuing to help prep everything right.

It was probably less than a minute later when the patient arrived. Bluebird was wheeled in by two other nurses and someone who seemed to be a first responder judging by the uniform.

“I’m with the mask,” the first responder said. She was an older lady with a serious face.

“Get washed up in there,” Dr. Sanders said pointing, “there’s scrubs and a window. Everyone else non-essential out.”

She nodded and rushed over to the indicated room. Being ‘with the mask’ meant she was one of the first people on the scene and was responsible for making sure the superhero wouldn’t be unmasked in medical procedures. It was called the masking courtesy and while all medical professionals were supposed to adhere to it, not everyone could be trusted to do so. She’d made the choice to take on the legal responsibility to protect Bluebird’s identity until such a time as he could make decisions himself or was dead.

Oh god. Remy really hoped not dead. The bitch had probably just saved the city from being razed down and eaten pavement for his efforts. Remy didn’t particularly want to watch him die after that.

He could feel the first responder’s eyes drilling into his back as he approached Bluebird, and he very carefully kept his hands far away from his face and in view of the window. Bluebird’s eyes flickered to him when Remy leaned over him a bit. He was still conscious, but it seemed just barely. “Hey buddy,” Remy said. “We’re going to let you sleep in a minute, but I need you to stay awake for me for just a bit. We don’t have any medical history for obvious reasons and I’m not going to ask you who you are, but is there anything we need to know? Allergies, blood conditions, stuff like that?”

Bluebird thought about it for a long moment and Remy wasn’t sure if he was going to get a response. “No,” he finally gritted out, his voice clearly pained.

“Okay that’s good. We’re going to take care of all of that okay. We’ll fix you up. You know what’s happening? We’re going to have to do some surgery”

“Yes,” he said. “You have my permission.”

“Okay, good, that’s good,” Remy said. Apparently, those words had taken a lot out of him because his eyes started to drift closed. “Hey, hey, come back for a sec. Do you know your blood type?”

There was a slow blink and his eyes didn’t focus, but he still said, “A positive.”

“Possible drugs in your system?”

No response. He was still awake, but he wasn’t fully aware.

“Hey buddy, stay with me.”

“…No.”

“A DNR?”

“No.”

The first responder had gotten all washed up and was in scrubs. She came back over to them. Remy gave her a tight nod. “I think we’re good to go,” Remy said. At least as much as they could be.

“We’re going to get you started on some pain meds now,” the anesthesiologist told Bluebird. He made a sound in response to the new voice, but he seemed to not be quite all there anymore even before the drugs started to hit his system.

Dr. Sanders finished whatever prep he’d been doing and came back over to lean over and address the superhero. “Hello I-” but he was interrupted when Bluebird’s eyes managed to focus on his face

“Patton?” Bluebird slurred, eyebrows crinkling in confusion as he blinked up blearily. “Why are you a doctor?”

Dr. Sanders went still. Remy went still. Everyone in the room went still. He didn’t know, clearly, Remy thought. Whoever the man was behind the mask, Dr. Sanders knew him, but he didn’t know he knew him.

For a long moment, the only sound in the room was the heart monitor.

“This,” Dr. Sanders said softly, but there was something hard and deadly in his tone, “never leaves this room.” He looked up and met each of their eyes one by one. “If it does, I will personally make sure your life is ruined.” Remy believed him.

The anesthesiologist nodded, fear in her eyes and Remy followed suit along with the surgical tech. The first responder pressed her lips together and inclined her head. Dr. Sanders took a breath to steel himself. “Then we have a surgery to perform.”

No one in that room ever said a word about that night to each other or anyone else (at least not for many, many years and even then it was only Remy and the surgeon with the superhero himself in the room). Yet, Remy found himself eating lunch with the surgical tech often over the years to come and always got a birthday card from the anesthesiologist once she’d moved away. They all showed up at the first responder’s retirement party a few years later and her funeral a few years after that. As for the man who was called “Patton” by a man in a mask that night, well, Remy would find, he ended up knowing him very well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things to not have be your last line of a chapter if you’re an Emergency Room surgeon “I’ll, um, see you later. Probably not today, but later.”
> 
> Things to not have be your last line of a chapter if you’re a secret superhero “Somebody kill me.”


	3. Chapter 3

Awareness came in waves for Logan.

At first there were just impressions of voices, but no understanding of any of the words. The sharp smell of disinfectant tingled at his nose and he strung together with bits of memory that he was likely in a hospital, but that knowledge faded as he drifted back into unconsciousness.

Next, he was jostled a bit and then he could feel himself being moved while the click-clack of wheels met his ears. He cracked open his eyes briefly to see the long rectangular lights in a hallway’s roof. Someone spoke but he just hummed and closed his eyes again.

Then, he woke briefly as just a bit of sunlight was starting to stream through the windows, opening his eyes for just a moment before closing them again. Things were starting to hurt just a bit now beyond the fog of whatever drugs were in his system. He tried to struggle against the drowsiness that seemed to creep through his veins, not particularly content with the sensation, but a hand touched his shoulder. “It’s okay,” a voice said softly and for some reason he believed it and let himself be pulled back under.

He listened for a bit the next time he woke. He could hear the steady beat of the heart monitor and a whispered conversation a small distance away. That was probably a good sign. Though he had yet to try to move, his body ached and smarted, especially his chest and lower abdomen. Luckily, the pressure of his mask was still on his face. With a breath, he blinked open his eyes. He moved a bit and a face was immediately hovering over him.

“You’re awake,” Patton said. Why was Patton here? He racked his brain, a vague memory of Patton dressed up as a doctor coming to mind. In fact, he was wearing a doctor’s coat now. Was he a doctor? Logan didn’t know he was a doctor…

That didn’t matter right now. He wasn’t Logan right now.

He cleared his throat, but it still came out a little hoarse. “I am.”

“Your mask was not removed,” Patton said, face serious in a way Logan hadn’t seen it be before. “You had a couple of people making sure of that.” He nodded at a woman sitting in a chair on the other side of Logan’s bed.

“Hello,” she greeted. “I was one of the EMTs on scene.” Yes, Logan thought. He remembered her if only through a pain filled haze. “I was tasked with upholding the mask courtesy.”

“Thank you,” Logan said, but then he blinked up at Patton. “Why are you here?” he asked.

Patton bit his lip. “I was your surgeon. You, uh, said a couple of things when you were out of it.”

Logan swallowed. “What did I say?” he asked.

“Nothing that reveled much other than that you know me.”

Logan closed his eyes and sighed. “I see.”

“If you feel you are well enough and are willing to sign the release form for me, I can leave and let you two have this discussion in private,” the EMT offered.

He nodded. “That would probably be for the best.” She produced the papers and he quickly signed them. With a brief nod to Patton, she was gone.

Patton slowly sat down on the edge of Logan’s bed, angled so Logan could see half of his face. “I won’t ask your identity,” he started, “but I do have to admit I… figured it out. Not many people know me by name, but don’t know I’m a doctor.”

Logan felt his throat tighten. “I see.”

They sat in silence for a few minutes, the heaviness of knowledge hanging in the air around them.

“You never mentioned you were a doctor,” Logan said softly.

A melancholy smile ghosted across his lips. “I like to pretend sometimes that I’m not,” he said. “I go to coffee shops or parks and just exist. I read books and talk to interesting mathematicians,” his smile got just a little bit more genuine as his eyes flickered to Logan’s, “and I try to forget for a couple of hours all the responsibilities I have in these walls, all of the things I see, the feelings I can’t escape when it’s all over and I’m alone.”

“That’s…” Logan said. He didn’t know what that was. Patton always seemed so cheerful. He was always ready with soft smiles and warm touches, but he did not seem happy now.

“I…” he said when Logan didn’t move to say anything else for a long moment, “I’m pretty good at pretending. I can forget that I know this. But…”

“But?”

“Will you let me drive you home?” he asked. “I know you can’t stay here long, but you’re hurt and I… I would like to make sure you get home okay.”

Logan paused to think, but there was really no reason to refuse at this point. “Alright.”

“Thank you.”

“I feel I should be the one thanking you.”

“Please don’t.” Logan was frozen, unsure what to do in this situation, but he wanted to do something. Before Logan could devise an action to take, Patton seemed to shake off whatever emotion had had ahold of him and turned to face Logan fully. “I’d like you to eat something before I release you and then I have some cloths for you that should fit in my locker.”

Logan agreed, and he was quickly handed a package of applesauce and a carton of milk. When he found he was still hungry, Patton brought him a sandwich. After that, Patton checked on his wounds briefly with intense eyes and gentle fingers. He seemed reluctant to leave him alone to go get the cloths, but Logan tossed the empty apple sauce container and plastic spoon into the trashcan with his powers, carefully hiding the wince as everything inside him ached at the action, and he left.

Patton came back with a bag of clothing and without his doctor’s coat and removed the IV before helping Logan get to his feet. Logan’s ribs ached horribly at the movement, but he schooled his face. Patton gave him a suspicious look at the lack of pain on his face.

Logan changed into the clothing in a small bathroom that he was pretty sure was only for staff and stuck the mask into the bag the cloths had been in. He watched Patton’s face when he exited the bathroom, but there wasn’t even a flicker of surprise.

“Here, sit,” Patton ordered, making Logan bristle just a bit at the tone even though he was probably right.

“I don’t need a wheelchair,” Logan argued, his face twisting up.

“Please,” Patton said softly and oh, Logan wanted to argue, but he couldn’t when he caught sight of the expression on the other man’s face. He sat in the chair and let Patton fuss a bit over him before he wheeled him into the hospital parking lot. If Logan was being honest, walking to the bathroom had worn him out and the parking lot was quite a distance away, so it was likely best that he hadn’t walked even though it wounded his pride a bit.

He gave Patton directions to his apartment complex. He pulled into some of the street parking outside the building. “You live closer to the hospital than I do,” Patton commented. “I live on Monroe.” He fed the meter a few coins before coming around to help Logan into the apartments.

They took it slow, but Logan was still trying not to pant when they finally made it to his door. “How many ribs did I break again?” he asked once the door closed behind him.

Patton frowned at him and herded him toward his couch. “Four,” he replied. “So, make sure to take it easy.” Logan nodded and leaned back against his couch exhausted. Patton looked around. “Your apartment is… very tidy,” he commented. “Do you have any blankets or pillows?”

Logan hummed. “Hall closet.” Patton walked away and came back with what was almost certainly his entire blanket and pillow collection. “I’m not that cold,” he protested. Patton ignored the protest and positioned the blankets and pillows around him to make a sort of nest and pulled one of the blankets over him. Okay, he had to admit that was sort of nice. He relaxed back into the couch.

“Can I get you anything?” he asked.

“I’m fine, thank you,” Logan said.

“Water at least,” Patton fretted.

“Patton,” he said. Patton blinked at him. The faucet in the kitchen started running and a glass of water zipped into his hand, Logan being careful to keep the water in the cup despite the speed. Using his powers hurt a bit less this time at least.

“Right,” Patton said. He looked like he wanted to ask something, but then he stopped and looked away. “Do you need a doctor’s note or anything for work or school? I could get one for you.”

“I didn’t have to be anywhere today. All I have left to do is grade which I can do from my couch. Also, I wouldn’t want people to be able to trace things back to you. It’s unlikely anyone would look, but you are on record for having done surgery on Bluebird last night.”

“I was going to forge Doctor Walter’s signature on it. He forgets when his glasses are on his face half the time. If someone ever brought it up to him, he’d just assume he forgot about writing it.”

“Should the man be working as a health professional then?”

Patton shrugged. “No.”

Logan laughed and Patton smiled back at him, but it faded slightly at the edges after a moment. “Well, if you really don’t need anything, then I should probably go.”

Logan paused, an ache in his chest not due to the fractured ribs. He didn’t need anything from Patton, but he really didn’t want him to go. “Of course,” Logan said anyway. Patton after all, had his own life to attend to.

Patton nodded and grabbed his bag. “Here are instructions for homecare,” he said, setting down a packet of paper on Logan’s coffee table. “Follow them, please,” he requested.

“I will,” Logan promised.

“Good,” Patton replied, “I… hope you feel better soon.”

“I’m sure I will. From what I understand, my doctor was very good.” Patton gave him a half smile and turned to the door. Logan stopped him before he opened it. “You said you’d be willing to forget this ever happened,” Logan said.

Patton paused and turned back to give him a tiny smile. “Of course.”

“I don’t want that,” Logan said.

Patton blinked at him a few times before a larger smile graced his face. “Okay then,” he said. “Um, I left my phone number on the instructions in case you needed anything medical related. So, call me if you need me?”

“I will,” said Logan and then he paused. “Also, if you are at any point worried, you can feel free to come back and check on me. If you aren’t busy.”

He looked relieved at the offer. “I’ll do that,” Patton said. “I’ll bring you something to eat for dinner, so you don’t have to cook.”

“That would be nice.”

“Okay,” he replied and bit his lip before opening the door and stepping back into the apartment hallway. “Bye.”

“Bye,” Logan said. He closed the door behind him. Logan had a long time to think that day and the days after while he healed, even while trying to grade his student’s exams on time. Most of those thoughts were about Patton. He had two rules, you see, that were almost always in conflict, but…

But they weren’t for Patton anymore.

**Author's Note:**

> Looks at Lia. Name ends in 'a', math nerd, existence is solely for shoving logicality's faces together and saying "now kiss." I think I just made a self-insert...


End file.
